


Waking Nightmares, Living Dreams

by hollyharley



Series: Spiders Crawl Collective (Independent Works) [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically, CSA, Dissociation, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Happy Ending, Healing, Irondad, One Shot Collection, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Michelle Jones, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, cocsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:39:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyharley/pseuds/hollyharley
Summary: He was afraid. But was Skip going to control him for the rest of his life?-----Peter Parker is a lot of things. A nephew, a student, a super-hero. But with PTSD, it's sometimes hard to remember that what he also is is asurvivor.XX Tony Stark is alive. that's not canon? oopsies~ XX- ALL works in the Spiders Crawl Collective can be read as stand-alones!!-
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Flash Thompson, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Spiders Crawl Collective (Independent Works) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867231
Comments: 14
Kudos: 121





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is formatted in a certain way. At the beginning of each chapter, a specific criterion (A-H) for PTSD will be listed, along with several possible ways to fulfill the criteria. The one(s) shown in the chapter will be bolded like **this.** For this, I used the diagnostic criteria found [here](https://www.verywellmind.com/requirements-for-ptsd-diagnosis-2797637).
> 
> PTSD is not synonymous with "having trauma," but people sometimes think it is. This fic is my way attempting to accurately portray what having PTSD is like and give those with it (includingmemaybe) positive representation. 
> 
> But don't worry, this isn't a psych 101 class. **The fic is really about the ups and downs of being a trauma survivor. There will be plenty of Irondad (we stann!!), May being a badass mf, Ned being wholesome, MJ just being awesome, and other characters from the MCU.**
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> \----------------------  
> Content warnings and word count will be at the beginning of each chapter. If you have a specific trigger, feel free to ask in the comments (guest commenting is on) or ask/message me on my tumblr, hollypurcellhurts.  
> \----------------------  
> Word count varies greatly. Between about 800-3000 :) this can be seen as a collective of one-shots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (actually published 9/5/2020 but backdated bc posting this with a new date would be... rude)
> 
> i'm sorry if you came here from a notification and were expecting a new chapter. it's coming soon; I promise!! thank you so much for reading!!! :)

I like organizing things. since this is like a collection of one-shots that are tied together, I've made this table of contents which include

  * **Chapter Title**
  * _Summary_
  * Characters/Relationships most relevant to the chapter. Other characters are mentioned, but these characters are the focus. Skip is referenced in all of them.



* * *

**Chapter 1- Table of Contents**

**Chapter 2- Criterion A: Stressor**

The trauma.

  * _Skip Westcott & Peter_



**Chapter 3- Criterion B: Intrusion Symptoms (1/2)  
**

Flash makes the mistake of hitting Peter. 

  * _Peter & Flash_
  * _Peter & Aunt May_



**Chapter 4- Criterion B: Intrusion Symptoms (2/2)**

Peter can't get rid of thoughts about Skip. It only gets worse when he hears something while on patrol.

  * _Peter & Karen_



**Chapter 5- Criterion C: Avoidance (1/1)**

Peter needs a book for a paper, but he'd rather fail than go to the library. 

  * _Ned & Peter_



**Chapter 6- Criterion D: Negative Alterations in Mood (1/1)**

It's Peter's birthday, then a start of a brand new school year. Doesn't mean Peter has to be happy about it.

  * _Michelle (MJ) / Peter_



**Chapter 7- Criterion E: Alterations in Arousal and Reactivity**

Danger is everywhere.

  * _Peter & Tony Stark_



**Chapter 8- Criterion G through H**

The future isn't perfect, but it's Peter's.


	2. Criterion A: The Stressor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: referenced grooming and assault

_**Criterion A: Stressor** _  
_Exposure or threat of death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one or more of the following ways:_

  1. _**You directly experienced the event.**_
  2. _You witnessed the event happen to someone else, in person._
  3. _You learned of a close relative or close friend who experienced an actual or threatened accidental or violent death._
  4. _You had repeated indirect exposure to distressing details of the event(s)._



* * *

If it was previously unknown to you, this story may be assumed to be a very different one. The events of Skip and Peter could be made into an action packed sci-fi story, with the heinous, despicable villain ( _Skip Westcott!_ ) and our amazing superhero ( _Peter Parker! AKA Spider-Man!!!_ ) fighting an epic battle. In the end, Peter would win. That's what always happens, right? The villain gets defeated and sent off to jail. The superhero goes home to his family with a big smile on his face. 

That's not what happened. This is what happened:

  * Peter was twelve.
  * He met Steven "Skip" Westcott at the library. He hadn't had many friends before this. Skip was kind! Skip was nice! Skip even helped him with a school project!
  * But Skip wanted something in return. Skip wanted something Peter wasn't willing to give. Poor Peter cried, "Please, Skip, **Don't!** "



You don't need the details. All you need to know is:

  * No one saved the day.



And

  * Peter did not go home with a big smile on his face.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen a lot of fics making skip a babysitter and i'm not sure if this is canon or just what a lot of fans choose to incorporate or??? anyways, thanks for reading :)


	3. Criterion B. Intrusion Symptoms (1/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: physical fighting, dissociation/fight-or-flight-or-freeze, being sp*nked (by a bully, not nsfw), cursing, referenced COCSA  
> -  
> Word count: 1787  
> \---  
> inspired by [this scene (2:07)](https://youtu.be/dSJkj5K1dZU?t=123) where Skip hits Peter's behind in _Homecoming_  
> 

_**Criterion B: Intrusion Symptoms** _  
_The traumatic event is persistently re-experienced in one or more of the following ways:_

  1. _Recurrent, involuntary, and intrusive memories._
  2. _Traumatic nightmares or upsetting dreams with content related to the event._
  3. _**Dissociative reactions, such as flashbacks, in which it feels like the experience is happening again.**_
  4. _Intense or prolonged distress after exposure to traumatic reminders._
  5. _Marked physiological reactivity after exposure to traumatic reminders._



* * *

Peter punched Flash in the face.

The boy flew down and hit the dirty cafeteria tile with a bang. "What the fuck, Parker?" Flash yelled. Blood dripped out of his crooked nose, and he cupped it with his hand. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Peter stalked over to him and punched Flash again, tears running down his face, teeth barred. "Don't fucking touch me again!"

Students began to surround them, their lunches long forgotten. They made a makeshift arena. If Peter had turned to look at them, he would see their shocked faces. If they even knew him, it was as the kid who won first place in the state science fair last year... or as the kid whose uncle had died. Not because he was a fighter. The crowd cried at every punch, hollered as Flash failed to get up, and held out their phones to record. People in the back tried to push forward. They whispered, _Peter Parker? Are you sure?_

Peter hit Flash over and over, barely being able to hold back (as he did with all humans). Flash cried out, but Peter wouldn't stop. ~~Skip~~ Flash was going to hurt him if he didn't defend himself. He wouldn't let himself get used again. Peter yelled. "DON'T!" _punch_ "EVER!" _punch_ "TOUCH!" _punch_ "ME!" _punch_ "AGAIN!" _punch._

Flash gave up trying to fight back. He curled up in a ball and moaned, arms around his head. _That's enough,_ Peter thought. He stood and stepped back, watching ~~Skip~~ Flash lay there on the floor. He had sent his message: _Don't fuck with me_. Was he supposed to say sorry? He wasn't really sorry. He didn't feel anything except the ghost of Flash's hand on him. 

This wasn't the first time. ~~Skip~~ Flash had touched him before. Flicking his ear in math class. Tugging his hair while passing him in lab. He'd even spanked Peter before- at a decathlon tournament, in the hallways. It always bothered Peter. His surroundings would get fuzzy; his mind and body terrified. He usually ran away to the bathroom to calm down.

Not today. 

He didn't know why today was different. Maybe it was because he was extra tired from a long evening of patrol. Maybe it was because he had stayed up to study for an English test. Maybe it was because when Flash slapped his ass, he had felt his nails slightly digging into his skin. Maybe it was because when he yelped, ~~Skip~~ Flash merely smirked at him as if he was a piece of meat. 

Either way, today he chose the _fight_ option in fight-or-flight-or-freeze. And he was Spider-man, after all, so when he fought, he _fought_. 

Peter felt hands on him, which only made him angrier. ~~Skip~~ Flash had already touched him. "Don't touch me!" he shrieked. It was a security guard trying to grab a hold of him. Peter twisted away, more agile than the any other kid in the school. He got away and ran towards the crowd. He knew he was in some deep shit, but he just didn't want someone to be touching him _._ Was that so much to ask for? He felt a dam burst inside of him, and he began to shake. _Why am I in danger? Why am I alone?_ He stepped forward, deciding to just _run_. At just that moment, a man burst through the crowd. 

"Hey!" the man yelled. Peter tried to run for it, but the man jumped forward and grabbed his wrist.

Peter froze. His heart beat in his chest, and his shoulders hunched. He gasped, suddenly not able to breathe. A small part of him knew who this man really was. He was the Italian teacher; MJ had him. Peter knew this, but he didn't, really. No. All he could see was the man's pale skin. His muscular, tall stature. His blond-nearly-white hair.

This wasn't Skip.

This was Skip.

This wasn't Skip, but he was just like Skip, and Peter was in danger. He was in danger. He was in danger.

All Peter could think was: _Please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me._

The man was talking to the security guard. The vice principal was there now too, telling students to get back to lunch. She then helped Flash get off the ground. There was blood all over the boy's hands. Red bruises bloomed on his face and arms. Peter didn't really process what he had done; he was still focused on the hand around his wrist, shackling him. He wanted to pull it free. He watched the teacher, who was now talking to someone with his phone held in his free hand.

Peter was a gazelle in a lion's mouth. He had to be careful. Once he was free, he could run. He gently... slowly... tried to pull his hand out of the man's grasp. The teacher turned to him and tightened his grip. "You're not going anywhere, kid. What's your name?"

Peter felt the pressure of man's fingers around his wrist. He was trapped. The lion would devour him any second. He couldn't fight. It was over. His body went limp, and he sagged toward the floor. His eyes got fuzzy. His thoughts were sluggish. _He's touching me. I don't... want him to._

He felt a tap on his shoulder. The teacher... the teacher was tapping him with his phone. "Hey, what's your name?"

"It's Peter. Peter Parker." It was the vice principal, guiding Flash past them. She frowned. "He won state science fair last year."

Flash and Peter made eye contact. Maybe Flash expected something more because he himself looked angry. But Peter was beyond him. He was a body and nothing more. He looked back at Flash with empty eyes. Flash looked disgusted, but he didn't care.

He was only a body. 

* * *

May stormed into the principal's office.

Peter could hardly even think. He was so relieved when the Italian teacher dropped him off here that it had taken 30 minutes of waiting for his Aunt to really realize what was happening. He was slowing coming out of his waking nightmare. He realized what he had done. He remembered being terrified. Being angry. Punching Flash. The bruises on his bully's skin. He did not 100% regret beating up Flash after years of bullying, but he still felt guilty. He was supposed to be better than that. He recognized what had happened as a really bad flashback. He hated this.

He easily accepted Aunt May's embrace. She held his chin and looked directly in his eyes. "What happened?"

Principal Morita spoke up. "As I said when we spoke on the phone, he beat another student during lunch. Peter broke the student's nose."

Aunt May looked back at Peter, then angrily at Morita. "Peter is the most gentle boy I know. He would never do that. I want to hear it from him." She sat in the chair next to Peter and clasped his hands in hers. "Tell me what happened, Peter."

He avoided her gaze and looked at the carpeted floor.

She softly squeezed his hand. "Peter, please." Her nephew pulled his hands away and wrapped his arms around his stomach.

"Peter, please," she repeated.

"He spanked me. He- he's done it before. It triggered me."

She wiped the tear that was making its way down his face. A wave of guilt overcame him. She was having to clean up his messes. "I'm sorry, Aunt May."

"Morita, we need to talk in private."

* * *

Peter had refused to tell the school about his PTSD before, but if he didn't want to get expelled, it would probably have to happen. Luckily, he wasn't in the room, though he did hear the louder bits of May's arguments like _"sexually assaulted my nephew!"_ and _"happened multiple times!"_ In between this there was quiet. Peter could only hope the principal wasn't learning too much about him. As the minutes passed, his anxiety grew. What if he got expelled anyways? What about MJ and Ned? Had they seen the fight? He could remember seeing them, but then again, he hadn't really been paying attention. He itched to get his phone from his backpack, but it was in the office.

After what felt like an eternity, the principal called him back in from the hall.

Morita leaned forward from his desk. "Peter, your Aunt and I have been talking. There is never an excuse for becoming physical, but in light of your... past and the fact that Thompson wasn't exactly innocent in all of this, I have decided not to expel you. That does not mean I do not condone your actions. You know our school is very strict on this sort of thing as we expect only the best from our students. You will write an apology to Eugene, as he will to you. I'll talk to his parents. Starting today, you will be suspended for a week. After that, I expect no more fights coming from you."

Peter sighed in relief. He wasn't being kicked out.

"You're a bright student, Peter. You've got a good head between your shoulders. Your aunt assures me you'll be contacting your therapist as well. Please keep up with that. And if you ever have any problems from anyone, come to me before you take matters into your own hands."

"Thank you, Mr. Morita."

* * *

They went home. Aunt May iced his knuckles. He answered the frantic texts Ned and MJ had sent him. Turns out they'd arrived at the cafeteria late and only saw him being towed away. After replying, he put down his phone. He needed to focus on himself right now.

After she coxed him to, Peter told May more about the fight. They scheduled an emergency therapy appointment for the following day. 

As they sat on the couch, he told her. "I was just scared, May. He scared me."

She hugged him fiercely. He knew she wished she had never let him go to Skip's house that day. But it happened, and there was no changing that. "I know, Baby. I know." She pulled back and smiled at him. "I know what'll make this day less shitty. Want to get some Thai food?"

That got a smile out of him. Of course he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to note, the (1/2) in the chapter title means another symptom in the "intrusion symptoms" category will be written about, NOT that this particular event will continue in the next chapter! (though it may be referenced)
> 
>  _Please tell me_ if anything about the format is confusing :)


	4. Criterion B: Intrusion Symptoms (2/2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: past COCSA, Men in Black mention, cursing,  hearing/witnessing s/x*  ( **SPOILER BUT TW** he thinks it is r*pe at first **END SPOILER** ), intrusive memories, panic attack symptoms, emetophobia warning (brief, at the end), 
> 
> *this isn't in incredible detail. it mostly describes noises (like groaning). it is between to characters that are not in the MCU, not named, and will not show up again. if you think it will be triggering, please feel free to sit this one out and read the other chapters if you would like. please, take care <3  
> -  
> Word count: 803  
> -

_**Criterion B: Intrusion Symptoms** _   
_The traumatic event is persistently re-experienced in one or more of the following ways:_

  1. **_Recurrent, involuntary, and intrusive memories._**
  2. _Traumatic nightmares or upsetting dreams with content related to the event._
  3. _Dissociative reactions, such as flashbacks, in which it feels like the experience is happening again._
  4. **_Intense or prolonged distress after exposure to traumatic reminders._**
  5. **_Marked physiological reactivity after exposure to traumatic reminders._**



* * *

_Skip sitting on the orange couch._

Patrol had really sucked today. For the entire time, Peter hadn't been able to get Skip out of his head. 

_Skip putting his hand on Peter._

He was crouched on a top of a building, looking out into the city. Not much had happened today. He took a mental recap.

  * Caught a guy trying to break into a car.
  * Got free food from a vendor who refused to let _Spider-Man_ pay
  * Made a graffiti artist cover up an explicit piece.
  * Helped an old lady with her groceries.



_Einstein. Einstein. Einstein._

It wouldn't stop. He still wanted to be out for a little longer, so he needed something to get his mind off of things. Or someone. "Karen?"

**"Hello, Peter. How may I be of assistance?"**

He let out a chuckle. "You know that pen thing in _Men in Black_? Can you get that for me?"

**"I have found several replicas of the Neuralyzer for sale. Would you like to order one?"**

"No." Peter sighed; he wished that "pen thing" was real sometimes, so he could erase his memories and forget everything. He continued to watch the people below. He heard drivers honking their horns and the chatter of people doing their evening errands. _Skip sitting on the orange couch._ "Can you distract me or something?"

**"How should I do that, Peter?"**

"Tell a joke or something?"

**"Okay. What do you do with a sick chemist?"**

Suddenly, Peter heard a moan. He stood. It had came from a nearby. His heart began to race. That wasn't a moan of pain. It was familiar.

_SkipSkipSkipSkipSkipSkipSkipSkipSkipSkipSkipSkipSkip_

Peter ran forward and leaped onto the next rooftop, closer to the source of the sound. He heard another moan and a man's laugh. His hands were shaking. What if someone was being hurt? He needed to get there. Fast. He scanned the area. Where were they? His stomach started to hurt. Oh, God. More noise. He followed it to another rooftop and spotted movement in an abandoned alleyway. Finally. He squinted to see in the setting sun's soft light.

A man was pushing a hidden figure into the wall. He could make out the edge of skirt shoved upward. The woman's wrists were held in the man's hands. He heard her cry out. Oh, God. _No, no, no!_

_Skip, please, **DON'T!**_

He jumped down onto the cement. "HEY!" His voice boomed. The man scurried away from his victim. He frantically pulled his pants up. Peter charged forward and shot a web at the man's feet, which caused him to topple over. Peter put his foot on the man's chest and stared down at him.

Suddenly, his whole body was shaking. He was scared. He tried to make up for it by being loud. "What do you think you're doing?" The man put his hands up.

"We weren't doing nothing!" Peter could hear the woman saying something. Calling for help, he hoped.

"I could hear you! Do you think rape- do you think rape is _nothing_?"

"I wasn't raping her! Dude, ask her! That's my girlfriend, man! Listen! She's-!"

"Do you think you can't rape her because she's your girlfriend?" Peter screamed. "YOU WERE HURTING HER!"

"Stop!"

Peter's head swiveled. He stared at the woman. _Stop?_

"He's my boyfriend, Spider-Man!" _Maybe she's scared of him._ _I was scared too._

He glared down at the man and said, "Don't move," then went to the woman. He smiled but realized she couldn't see it. He tried to put a supportive hand on her arm, but she shrugged him off. 

"That's my boyfriend, Spidey. You got it all wrong."

Peter glanced back at the man, who hadn't moved. Good. "If your afraid of him, I can help you."

"I'm not."

"I heard you cry out."

She laughed. "Spidey, I wasn't doing that against my will."

"Promise me?" He meant to say it as a statement, but it sounded more like a question.

"I cross my heart and hope to die." She was making eye contact. Her voice was steady. She wasn't lying. "I know you've seen some shit, but this ain't it. I promise."

Peter was happy he had a mask on; that way, the couple wouldn't see his face flush with embarrassment. He was so stupid. So anxious. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He cut the webs off the man and apologized to them. Then he ran home, heart beating fast, throat tightening.

**"Are you all right, Peter?"**

He didn't answer. He jumped into his apartment, ripped off his suit, and managed to get to the bathroom right before he threw up. He sat on the tile and hyperventilated, memories flooding his mind.

_Skip sitting on the orange couch._

It took hours before he felt like he could breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise this isn't just a hurt fic. Peter 👏 will 👏 be 👏 supported ! 👏


	5. Criterion C: Avoidance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: past COCSA (not graphic), libraries, papers, cursing  
> -  
> Word Count: 1843

_**Criterion C: Avoidance** _  
_Persistent effortful avoidance of distressing trauma-related reminders after the event as evidenced by one or both of the following:_

  1. **_Avoidance of trauma-related thoughts or feelings._**
  2. **_Avoidance of trauma-related external reminders, such as people, places, conversations, activities, objects, or situations._**



* * *

Peter needed a book.

He had gone to the school library too late... avoiding it, as he always did. By the time he got there, every single book even mentioning China was gone. The World History paper was due in less than a week, after all. Because Mr. Baker was New York’s most old-fashioned teacher ever, the term paper had "to be written with at least five sources and his words... _"These cannot be found online! Period! Go to the library. It's free!"_ As proof, students were required to attach pictures of the books used _with them in it._

Baker was famous for this paper. Every student in Midtown High knew about it. In the past, students had used e-books and failed. Parents and students protested every year. At least one student would cry at the due date. Nevertheless, the administration supported the rules. It said he gave out a rubric well over a month in advance, and it was good for students to learn how to research.

Peter had helped save the entire damn world, Queens included, and this is how it paid him back. A six-paged paper, due in four days and worth 15% of his semester grade, with the most ridiculous instructions ever. 

He refused to go to the library. He didn't want to even try and beg to Mr. Baker. What would he say anyways? "Oh, hey, Mr. Baker, I'm afraid of libraries because that's where I met my rapist. Can you not give me a zero please?" Pathetic. 

The only option was failing. Peter wasn't the failing type. Even with Spider-Man patrol, he made time for his studies. Getting good grades was drilled into him since he was young, living with a rule-following military man like Ben and a hardworking nurse like May. It was the Parker way.

In order to get into a top uni, he needed a scholarship to help pay, and having a B or C lower his GPA would tank him. It would stain on his A-Honor-Roll transcript. He didn't want to go to the library. He hadn't even gone to the public one since Skip happened. But he had to try.

He passed the corner of 108th Street and 71st Ave. He looked away, but not before getting a glimpse of the side of the building he remembered all too well. The bricks were the same. He had hoped the building was torn down or something, but no, there it was. Peter honestly didn't even know what was inside, but he had seen the outside many times before. Skip would always lean against it. They would meet up at the corner, and Skip was always there first. He would look out into the intersection and wait. When he saw Peter coming his way, he would wave and smile, and once Peter got there, they would make their way to the library together.

Sometimes he'd put his arm around Peter's shoulder and say, "Einstein, finish all those books already?"

Peter pushed the memory away. _Not right now. I need to get the books. I need to write the paper._

He realized he had come to this library out of habit. Too late to regret not picking the billion other libraries in the city, right? All he needed was some books on the Han dynasty, and then he'd get the hell out of here.

He got to the steps of the library and stopped. He remembered opening that door. He remembered the library's warm embrace in the wintertime, its cool escape from the summer heat. He remembered seeking refuge there when Aunt May had a double shift, and he and Uncle Ben had fought. He remembered reading every single book in the Children's & Young Adult section. He remembered the rows and rows of books. He remembered being innocent and lonely, and he remembered Skip walking up to him sitting at a library table. It was like a dream come true: a friend! A real friend! 

He didn't want to remember this. Fuck the paper. Fuck the grade. Fuck the future.

He turned around and went home.

* * *

The paper was due tomorrow. 

He had a therapy appointment yesterday, and he told his therapist about avoiding the library and how he was scared about his grade. Dr. Emily was awesome; he had told her a lot about Skip and a lot about his life in general. She was gentle and kind. She had warm brown eyes, and she didn't judge him no matter what he said. He normally tried to use the coping mechanisms she taught him. Expressing himself. Talking with others. Even yoga. Yesterday, she had said: _"Avoidance isn't uncommon with trauma. You got to tackle it, Peter. You already got there. Now you have to open the door."_

After the session, he really did think about going to the library. He even packed his backpack with a notebook and the paper's rubric.

Then he remembered the freckle on Skip's stomach.

He did not go to the library. 

Now, he had a paper due in less than 24 hours, and he wasn't going to turn anything in. He sat idle during patrol, restless, when a small group of kids spotted him on the rooftop and yelled excitingly for him to come down.

Peter smiled and jumped down in front of the kids. He was Spider-Man so he could use his powers to help others, but having fans was a plus. He loved seeing them smile and seeing how inspiring he was. He felt like he was making a difference.

"Do a trick! Do a trick!"

He did a double back flip and then jumped onto the side of a wall. He shot a web onto a street light and jumped back towards them, giving the group a wave as he swung past them. He continued to swing and jump and flip, much to the children's delight. After a few minutes, he jumped back in front of them. There were five kids, all wide-eyed and all full of questions. 

"Do you really know Iron Man? Is he scary?"

"How big is the Hulk?"

"Do the webs come out of your hands?

He laughed. "Okay, one. I do know Mr. Stark, and no, he isn't scary. He's terrifying, but he's also great. Two, Hulk is.... huge! The webs don't come out of my hands. They come out of the suit. But-"

He saw a boy in the back trying to sneakily take a photo with his phone. 

"Hey, you don't need to hide. Want to take a selfie?"

The eleven-year-old boy looked at him sheepishly. He was turning bright red. "S- sorry!" The boy hunched over like he was trying to disappear. The other kids started asking for photos too, but Peter was lost in his head.

_It was two days after Skip hurt him when there was a knock on the door. He opened it to find Skip standing there, grinning as if nothing had even happened. "Hey, Einstein! Where have you been? Want to go hang out?"_

_Peter stared at him. His throat closed up, and he hunched forward and wrapped his arms around himself. He wanted to be smaller. Invisible. He muttered something about homework and slammed the door shut._

Peter took a step back and bumped into a newspaper stand. "Sorry, I- I have to go! I'm sorry!" He ignored their disappointed faces, jumped onto a wall, and frantically crawled away.

* * *

An hour later, he got a call. He was still on patrol, but he had moved across Queens in hopes that he wouldn't see that group of kids again.

It was Ned.

"Hey, Ned. What's-"

"Peter! Have you done the paper for Baker yet? I haven't even started it! I already have a C in this class. Bro, my mom's going to murder me if I fail. Please please please, will you help me?"

"How?"

"I need motivationnn. I haven't even gone to get the books yet!"

"Ned!" Peter exclaimed, "It's due tomorrow!"

"I know, I know! You and MJ wrote the paper last week and used _ten_ books. I need you, Spidey!"

Peter confessed to Ned that he hadn't gotten books either. "I just haven't had time," he lied.

"We can go right now together and get it done! It's double-spaced, Peter. That means it's really a three-page paper."

"I don't want to go to the library." His voice was small. Ned could tell something was wrong.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't like the library." He sounded like he was twelve. "It reminds me of bad things."

Ned was quiet for a moment. He knew some about Skip since Peter had finally gotten the nerve to tell him about it (Post the Punching-Skip-In-The-Face incident a year ago). Ned knew he had aversion to some things, like swimming without a shirt on or being hugged. But the library? Ned probably thought he was crazy. He was crazy crazy crazy. 

Ned interrupted his thoughts. "I wanted to go to the big one in Elmurst. What do you think? I can get the books, and we can write it somewhere else?"

Peter smiled. "Sure. I'll meet you there."

* * *

When Ned got there, Peter, no longer in his suit, was sitting on a bench and staring at the people inside. They were normal, doing normal library things. There must've been students working on papers, parents and kids finding books, people using computers. He had seen strangers walk in and out of the building. He was remembering meeting Skip in a library much like this one. 

Yet there were differences that he noticed. For one, a lot of the side of the Queens Public Library was made of glass. Second, it was much bigger than the one he went to when he was younger. Most importantly, the people weren't the same people. He still remembered Skip's freckle and Skip's smile and Skip's hand, but Skip wasn't here right now. Other people were. People he didn't know.

And Ned.

"Spider-Man!" Ned hurried to where Peter was sitting.

"Shh!!" Peter quickly looked around, but no one was paying attention.

"Okay, you wait here, and I'll get the books. Then we can take them to Starbucks or something and write our papers. Can you hold my laptop while I'm in there?"

"Shit! I didn't bring mine."

"Nooo!" Ned let out a panicked little yell. "Okay, okay. You ask May if you can go to my apartment, so you can steal my mom's. I'll get the book. We have... thirteen hours until school starts!" He started to power walk towards the library.

Peter thought about what his therapist said. Open the door. Literally. He was afraid. But was Skip going to control him for the rest of his life?

No. _Hell_ no.

"Ned!" Peter got up and ran after his friend. "Wait up!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ned is wholesome, and I'm so happy I finally got to write him! we stan!  
>  **MJ and Tony will be coming soon! i'm excited :D**  
>  -  
> all these avengers and not one has the ability to crack my back by snapping or something. my neck hurts. pls T-T Dr. Crack? Cracks-e-lot? Pain-Relief-Man?
> 
> (thanks for reading!!)


	6. Criterion D: Negative Alterations in Mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: referenced past COCSA, passive suicidal thoughts, referenced past death, birthdays/birthday party  
> Word Count: 2742

_**Criterion D: Negative Alterations in Mood** _  
_Negative alterations in cognition and mood that began or worsened after the traumatic event as evidenced by two or more of the following:_

  1. _Inability to recall key features of the traumatic event. This is usually dissociative amnesia, not due to head injury, alcohol, or drugs._
  2. _**Persistent, and often distorted negative beliefs and expectations about oneself or the world.**_
  3. _**Persistent distorted blame of self or others for causing the traumatic event or for the resulting consequences.**_
  4. _**Persistent negative emotions, including fear, horror, anger, guilt, or shame.**_
  5. _**Markedly diminished interest in activities that used to be enjoyable.**_
  6. _**Feeling alienated, detached or estranged from others.**_
  7. _**Persistent inability to experience positive emotions, such as happiness, love, and joy.**_



* * *

Peter felt bad for Aunt May. She had so much death around her. Her father had died of cancer; her mother in a car accident years ago. Her in-laws and Ben, the love of her life, were murdered. To add to that, plenty of patients had died while in her care. 

Now he he wanted to add Nephew (By Suicide) to her list.

He didn't have a plan. Not really. What he had was no future and no hope. Just shame.

There was a knock on his door. Speak of the devil. "Peter, it's nearly seven! Are you ready?"

He was, in fact, not ready. He was still in his pajamas, which was normally okay for teenagers during the summer. Except tonight was different. There was another knock at his door. "Peter?"

"Yeah, sorry! Almost ready!"

The oven started to sing its tune. Time to put in the food, according to May. She left, and he sat down on his bed to look at the clothes he was supposed to wear. A grey button down shirt and black pants. Special clothes for his dinner, which would start in less than ten minutes. Today was August 10th, and it was his birthday. They were celebrating. Peter didn't really get it, though; he felt like his life had ended five years ago.

He heard the buzz on the intercom and May saying "I'll let you guys in!" He was running out of time. 

Despite his feelings, he changed into his clothes and put a false smile on his face. Everyone that loved him was coming, and he couldn't disappoint. When he walked into the kitchen, she was pouring chips into a bowl. May handed him a bowl of pretzels, and together, they brought the snacks out to the living room. 

May hugged him. "My sweet baby's turning seventeen already." She had to get on her toes to kiss his forehead. "Getting so tall already."

When he was twelve, he was still skin and bones. If he had curled up, he would nearly fit in the laundry bin. He wouldn't tell Aunt May his growth was all bark and no bite; no matter how tall or strong he was, he would always be Einstein. Spiders are frail compared to giants. 

There was a knock on the door. He opened it to see Tony, Pepper, and Morgan. "Peter, we brought you a present!" The box still in her hand, Morgan hugged Peter's leg. He crouched down and hugged her back. Carefully.

"Thanks, Morgan!" He stood and let Tony shake his hand.

"Hey, Kid. You're looking really sharp. Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark." He smiled awkwardly at his wife. He thought she must dislike him. He took up Tony's time. He was annoying. He got Tony into dangerous situations.

"Peter." Pepper gave him a heartfelt hug, much to Peter's surprise. "Seventeen is a big step! Have you taken the SATs yet?" 

He was starting to feel a little better than before. Having the Starks here was nice. Morgan ran to the snacks, her father following, while May, Pepper, and Peter hung out in kitchen. They talked about the SATs Peter had taken about a month ago. (He was still waiting on the results, but he felt good about it.) He did have plans for living. There were things he wanted to do and places he wanted to see. He wanted an education. He was thinking about Empire State.

He wanted to be Spider-Man, but also more than that. Peter and Pepper talked about universities and the things that were happening at Stark Industries. May told a funny nurse story. Maybe it was Pepper's kindness or Morgan's contagious happiness. Either way, it all felt normal. He felt normal... like maybe he could really do this, you know?

Soon, they were joined by MJ and Ned, and it was time for dinner. Lasagna: Peter's favorite. Ned could barely contain his excitement about being seated next to Tony, while MJ kept trying to sneakily take photos. Tony said something about having fans and there was laughter.

Peter had to fake it. As quick as it had come, his small burst of happiness had left him.

He remembered his twelfth birthday. He didn't have any friends except for Skip. Skip didn't like lasagna, so May and Ben had bought pizza. It was before Skip had hurt him, obviously. They had played Mario Kart on the Wii. As a gift, Skip had given him a book. _The Greatest Scientific Achievements of Mankind_. After Skip hurt him, Peter always thought to himself: _What if you had got lasagna?_ _What if you hadn't let him pick the game? What if you didn't always give him what he wanted?_ What-If. What-If. What-If.

Morgan had demanded to sit next to Peter, and she chatted away about what seemed like everything in her life: school, her recent play-date, a trip to the zoo. She kept expecting him to respond, and he had to force himself to not just get up and leave. He didn't want to be talking to the six year old. He was the worst person here for her to latch on to. He had let Skip fool him. Rape him. What kind of role model would that make him?

The worst part of the night was the singing. May, Tony, Pepper, Morgan, Ned, and MJ all sang "Happy Birthday" while Peter stood in front of the cake. At best, being sung at is always awkward. But this just felt cruel. He wanted to feel happy, but he didn't.

He felt like these people were strangers singing to a person he didn't know. Why would he be happy that it was some random person's birthday? He felt nothing beyond sad that he wasn't enjoying this anymore, but he tried to keep up appearances. He blew out the candles with a faux smile. There was no wish. Then MJ was standing beside him. She wrapped an arm around him and looked towards Aunt May's phone.

"Smile!" 

He stretched his grin wide, making sure to push his cheeks up; a trick he had learned long ago that made a smile seem genuine. There was flashing as May took photos, and through her teeth, MJ whispered, "What's wrong?"

He ignored her. Once everyone got a slice of cake, she whispered the question again. This time, he gave her a reassuring smile. "Nothing's wrong, MJ." He kissed her on the cheek for good measure. He had to take care of them, of all of his family. They already worried too much about him.

She raised her eyebrow. May called them over to open presents, and MJ looked at him with one of her looks that said _"I know something's up, and I swear to God, Parker, we will talk later."_

He opened Ned's present first. A Lego set. Normal teenagers like Legos. He was not normal. He said thank you and gently put it aside. 

Now May's gift. A gift card to Home Depot. He always went there to get materials when he was inventing something. He hadn't felt like inventing anything in awhile, but he hugged May anyways. It was thoughtful of her.

Next was Tony's gift. Morgan drew him a card, which made him smile for real. When he opened it, he found two things: a Visa gift card with $300on it and an access card into the Avenger's facility. Peter looked up to Tony in shock. For one, _$_ _300_?! He really forgot how rich Tony was sometimes. But what caused the twist of guilt in his gut was the access card. 

He had never been denied entry to the Avenger's facility. Even though Tony tried to appear aloof, everyone could tell he cared for Peter, a whole lot. When they planned to meet up at the facility, either Tony was there or he got in via facial recognition. But a card? It meant...

"Yup, Kid. You got your own room. I'm not telling you you should move out or anything, but if you ever need a place..." He quickly looked at Aunt May and scratched his neck. "I mean- It's more symbolic than anything. It means that you're one of us, Kid." 

_You couldn't even stop yourself from getting raped, Einstein. You think you can be an Avenger? It's a shame Mr. Stark wastes hope on you._

He quickly gave thanks to the Starks and turned to the final gift. On the bottom of the gift bag was a shiny black book. A notebook. He looked at MJ in confusion. He wasn't a writer. He wasn't upset, but he knew she had something in mind when picking this gift out. She shrugged. "I think you have a lot of stories to tell."

Peter felt like he only had one.

* * *

Peter leaned against the edge of the rooftop ledge. It had been two weeks since his birthday. The anniversary of his trauma had passed. He didn't feel excited about his senior year. It only reminded him that another year had gone by, and he was still broken.

He thought about jumping off the rooftop and falling falling falling until he crashed onto the sidewalk below. He didn't have his suit on. If he jumped out far enough, he wouldn't be able to stick onto the wall.

He'd just fall, hit his head, and die.

He really didn't want to die. He was just... _tired_. It was only the second day of school, and seniors were already applying for universities. They had plans. Homecoming. Clubs. They were looking forward to prom and graduation and the great unknown. 

The only unknown Peter could see in his future was death. His narrative had been written. He had fooled himself to think he could become something more with Spider-Man. He had been innocent. He had been stupid. He had been raped. The end. He knew his PTSD was messing with his head, but the idea wasn't completely unappealing. He could stop dragging this life out. He could rest.

The rooftop door opened, and Peter flinched. He tried to hide, but there was nothing close enough to hide behind.

"Hey!" It was one of the school guards. _Shit. Now he's going to report me, and the school counselor's going to be up my ass._ "Hey, Kid!"

He stepped forward. "S-sorry, I was just-"

"Can it. You're not allowed to be up here. Are you skipping class?"

"I'm on my lunch break, Sir."

The guard rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just get inside. Don't let me catch you up here again."

Peter made a beeline to the door. He felt like he should be happy he didn't get in any sort of trouble. He didn't need a phone call being made to Aunt May. There was no reason to worry anyone.

Yet he still kind of wished the guard worried.

* * *

MJ invited him over Friday night. It was good her mom was out on a date. It didn't take long for the whole thing to implode.

Peter had been trying to diminish MJ's worry for the past couple weeks. He had told MJ _he was fine, fine, fine._ A few days after his birthday, she went on vacation with her mom to see some relatives out West, and she didn't come back until the first day of school. She had been busy with babysitting the family's children, and he had been busy focusing on Spider-Man patrol. They texted, of course, but MJ was more of an in-person communicator, so she didn't bring anything up, and neither did Peter. 

The night had started all right. He got to the apartment. When MJ's mom left, the two went to the living room and decided to watch a movie.

They had been dating for months, but Peter still felt awkward. MJ snuggled against him, and he just stared at the screen. She kept on shifting around, and he tried to put an arm around her shoulders, but it felt weird. Clunky. Like he was putting his arms around someone he didn't really know. MJ was an actress, he was an actor, and this was a movie. He couldn't have a girlfriend.

He was a personified story of rape and grief; alone in a bubble, alone in the world. What were they doing? She was different than him. She had a future and a real life. He was dragging her down. Maybe he needed to break up with her. 

After about thirty minutes, MJ paused the movie. Neither of them had been paying attention, anyways.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"What? Nothing's wrong. Let's watch the movie." Peter moved to get the remote, but MJ snatched it off the table.

"It's been weeks. I've given you space, but clearly, it's time for an intervention."

"It's fine, MJ.."

"I don't think you are."

"I said I'm _fine_! You've been at this for weeks. What's gotten into you?"

MJ didn't get mad much. She wasn't rigid, but she wasn't one of those in-your-face type girlfriends either. She kept loud emotions tucked inside, staying logical during disagreements. The closest Peter had seen to MJ being mad was during an immigration protest, but even that anger hadn't been without structure.

Right now, she wasn't mad. She was pissed.

MJ stood and crossed her arms, feet apart. She glared down at him. "Are you seriously trying to gaslight me, Parker?" 

"God, no! I'm just saying I'm fine, MJ. Seriously. I've just been a little tired."

"I know you're lying. I'm not stupid. I'm your girlfriend."

What, so MJ was pissed at _him_ for trying to keep it all together? Really? Well, he was starting to get pissed too. He stood. "What, MJ, so that means I have to talk to you all the time?" He should have stopped, but he didn't. He couldn't. "You ever think maybe I don't _want_ to talk to you, MJ? Maybe if you stopped messing with me, I'd be fine!"

MJ didn't answer. She took a step back at his anger, but quickly recovered. She shook her head. There was a look on her face that said, _"I don't believe you."_

"I can't take having to comfort you all all the damn time! Why can't you take no for an answer?!"

"Don't make this about me, Peter." MJ's voice was ice. "It's never been about you protecting me, or May, or anyone else. It's your own pride. You have to be perfect. You don't need to be perfect. No one except you expects that. But I don't have to put up with your shit just because you can't accept that."

Peter sighed, and all of his anger melted away. He was exhausted. He sat on the edge of the couch and hung his head. "I know."

The couch cushion dipped as MJ sat down beside him. She gently clasped his hand in hers. He said softly, sadly, "Why couldn't he take no for an answer?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, MJ. I ruined movie night."

At that, MJ nearly jumped on top of him to give a fierce hug. "I don't care about movie night, Stupid. I care about you."

His throat tightened. "It sucks. I think about him all the time."

Eventually, Peter realized MJ must have had enough hugging. He tried untangle himself from his girlfriend, but MJ refused to move. Her arms stayed wrapped around him, protective. Safe. "I'm not letting go until you know I care about you, Parker."

They didn't stop hugging until Peter's stomach growled. They abandoned the movie and made sandwiches instead. While eating them, they sat on MJ's bedroom floor. MJ sketched. Peter decided to write in his new notebook.

He had some stories to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet. mr. stark will have a much bigger role in the next chapter!!


	7. Criterion E: Alterations in Arousal and Reactivity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: references to past assault, vigilance/worry about possible assault, cursing, yelling (no caps, italicizing), hugging (at the end), food (meat, stew) mention, knife mention (not used),  
> Word Count: 2435  
> \-------  
> hypervigilance is like the spider-sense except if it was telling Spider-Man there was danger when there was... no danger. yeet. we do not stan 
> 
> #irondad

_**Criterion E: Alterations in Arousal and Reactivity** _  
_Trauma-related alterations in arousal and reactivity that began or worsened after the traumatic event:_

  1. **_Irritable or aggressive behavior_**
  2. _Self-destructive or reckless behavior_
  3. **_Feeling constantly "on guard" or like danger is lurking around every corner (hypervigilance)_**
  4. **_Exaggerated startle response_**
  5. **_Problems in concentration_**
  6. _Sleep disturbance_



* * *

Mr. Stark took his suit last night.

Peter's mentor assured him it was just to fix it. "It won't take long," Tony had promised, "These are just some nasty scratches, and while I'm at it, I might tweak some things."

It was all thanks to Mr. Maxwell Markham AKA "Grizzly." Peter had got him, but not without his suit nearly being torn to shreds. Peter was usually a pretty calm guy, but he was _pissed_ at the wrestler turned bear villain. (Yeah, seriously. Out of all the things he could've done, Crazy Max chose to become a goddamn grizzly bear.) In the past, Jameson had written tons of negative pieces about Spider-Man. But did you see Peter bursting into the Daily Bugle, breaking stuff, and threatening journalists? _NO._

Grizzly had ripped up his suit, and this left him defenseless. He hated it. He already missed Karen and all the protective arsenal she gave him.

He was good at protecting himself in school. He kept out of everyone's way, and he watched. He watched the teenage boys, the male administrators. He watched them when they walked by in the hallway. He watched how close they got to him in class. He was aware of where they were, what they did, and how they could hurt him. He kept eyes open; he kept himself safe.

But in the city? There were people everywhere, and there was no way he could watch them all. And yes, he knew he was Spider-Man. He had super strength and could climb walls. But he wasn't the only one with abilities, especially in New York. What if some evil scientist's son-turned-rapist decided to hurt him? What if a Norse god he'd never heard of decided to rape him? He couldn't stop them. Without his Spider suit, the only think he could do was run home, lock the door, and hide out until May came home. 

Peter hadn't had kept his stash of webs at school or at home in years. They were kept in the Avengers facility, but Peter knew what Mr. Stark would say if he tried to get some. Something like, "Kid, you needed a break anyways. I'm ordering you to go home and play with your Legos this weekend." Or something like that. Peter had too much shame to admit to Mr. Stark about how afraid he was of everything. That meant he had to make his own webs.

But of course, the chemistry teacher had locked the lab door during lunch, and he couldn't sneakily make web during class because he was in AP physics, and they didn't use the lab. At least he would get college credit!

He was lucky, though. He still had his old handmade suit.

The bell rang. Peter was startled at the sound, but he ignored the (usual) jolt of fear it caused and rushed out the door. He hadn't paid a lick of attention during classe. He'd been a foot-tapping, constantly-flinching ball of energy, and while he would normally find his friends on Fridays to hang out, today he had only one goal in mind: _Get home._

He quickly found a nearby alley and changed into his old suit. Then he crawled up a wall and made his way home.

* * *

"Shit!"

It was Saturday afternoon. Peter was sitting on the couch, trying to learn the calculus lesson from yesterday so he could do the homework. Aunt May slammed the fridge door and let out a huff. "I forgot to buy the damn beef!"

May was trying to "return to her Reilly roots," by making Irish _beef_ stew. Hence the problem. 

"Okay, Peter can you go get the chuck roast? I've got to cut up the vegetables." May fished out her credit card from her wallet. If Peter took it, he'd have to go without his suit. Too big of a risk being connected to May. 

"Do you have any cash?" he asked, timid. 

May dug around her wallet and found none. Seeing his hesitation, she offered to go instead. Peter didn't want his aunt to worry, so he assured her it was fine. The grocery store was only a few blocks away. He'd be fine. He gave her a smile and left her to chop the potatoes. 

Pride was not a PTSD symptom. It was a Peter one.

* * *

Walking the five blocks was a nightmare.

He'd slipped on his hoodie in hopes that hide his body from any watchful eyes; he'd swiped his knife from his nightstand before leaving too- an extra protective measure. He kept his hand in his pocket curled around the handle. He kept his eyes open and watched people around him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Spider sense... or anxiety? There was a group of friends- maybe college students- walking behind him. _Are they following us, Peter?_ his mind whispered. _Slow down. Let's slow down and make sure._ He slowed.

They walked past him without a glance.

 _Okay, good. Thank God._ Peter kept his head down, his shoulder tensed. He knew it was illogical, but he couldn't help himself. He just really wished he had his suit. He could've gone to an ATM and used cash and this whole thing could've been avoided. 

Luckily, he was almost there. _Less than a block._ _Okay. Wait! **Peter. Look!**_ _Look at him. Is he looking at you?_ There was a man leaning against a wall. He could be a rapist; he could hurt Peter. It wasn't safe; it wasn't safe; it wasn't safe; it wasn't safe; he hated Irish stew, and he wasn't safe; he wasn't- _just walk, Peter_. _Just walk. Okay. It's okay; it's okay; you have the knife if he messes with you. Just walk past him; just keep your head down; there're other people here; he can't hurt you; just keep your head down; he's looking at his phone- he's not paying attention to you. Hurry!_ _Okay, it's good. We're good._ He made it past the man. He was safe, and he got to the store, which was a relief... until he went inside. He'd forgotten. It was Saturday afternoon.

It was full of people. 

Peter now had an agenda with two goals.

  * Get 1.5 pounds of beef chuck roast.
  * Survive.



He almost made it, too. He'd snatched the beef for Aunt May, still gripping his pocket knife. He walked back through the (empty) cleaning aisle and thought, _Since I'm here, maybe I should get some cereal. We're running out._

His therapist would be so proud of him. Choosing what he wanted over irrational vigilant thoughts! He smiled at the idea of telling the doctor next week. He was lost in that thought, looking at the cereal options, when he felt someone getting closer.

"Need something, Son?"

Peter jumped back. The worker had gotten waaaay too close for comfort. Anger rose in him. He was just minding his own business; he didn't need any help. Why was this old dude bothering him? _Just leave me alone._ Peter shook his head.

The man didn't take a hint and took a step closer. "We actually have a sale going on." Another step. "You didn't seem sure what you wanted..." This man had been watching him?! "We overstocked the store brand, and it's actually just as good as those expensive ones." Another step. The man leaned closer, arm reaching for _Peter_ and-

"Leave me alone!"

The man took a step back in shock, but Peter held his ground. What the fuck kind of employee doesn't leave someone alone? The man fumbled for words. "I'm sorry, Sir, I was going to show you the cereal! it's just a really good deal and-"

" _Get the fuck away from me!_ "

The worker had the gall to get angry. He started talking about calling security if Peter couldn't "control his temper." Fucking idiot. Peter seethed, and he wanted to punch the dude, but he knew he couldn't do that- not to a regular human, no matter how annoying- so he stalked away towards the exit. He threw the beef down at the checkout, cereal long forgotten, and paid with the _stupid credit card._ Grabbing the check-out bag, he stomped out of the store, having to stop himself from turning back and just YELLING.

He walked home, still afraid- but willing to fight if anyone dared to fuck with him. When he got to the apartment, he nearly threw the bag down, told Aunt May he needed to get some air, and left again.

He didn't want to have to deal with walking in the street, and he'd forgotten his homemade suit in his room like an idiot. He didn't want to go back to Aunt May and have to make up an excuse on why he was angry. So he went to the roof and made a call to the one person who could help him. 

Mr. Stark picked up after the third ring.

"Hey, Kid. Is this important? Ms. Potts and I are about to go out."

"Seriously?" Peter spat the word out. _Seriously!_

There was a pause. "Yes, seriously... Kid, is this about your suit?"

" _Yes_ , Mr. Stark, it's about my suit. I would have fixed it myself and had it already if _you_ hadn't wanted to take it!"

"Well, Kid, I'm sorry I wanted to help you out." Tony's irritated tone only added fuel to the fire. 

" _I need my suit!_ " he yelled. He kicked a piece of metal and it flew across the roof floor.

There was a short sigh. "Kid, I know you've got that teen angst thing going on, but I'm about to go on the first date me and Pepper have had in awhile, and I don't have time for this. I'll get back to you on the suit. Bye."

Peter kicked the piece of metal over and over again. Stupid! Mr. Stark was a billionaire; no one would dare touch him! What about Peter? Skip had hurt him, easily! What was to say someone else wouldn't too?

What kind of person was Tony, anyways? Leaving Peter alone and defenseless. Going on a date, leaving Morgan alone... Morgan. Leaving Morgan alone. Morgan's innocent little face popped up in Peter's mind, and he frantically called Tony back. 

The first call rang and rang and rang and went to voicemail.

Peter called again. Ringing, ringing, ringing. Voicemail.

A third time. Ringing. Sent to voicemail. 

A fourth time. Peter was so agitated his hands shook. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God, _Mr. Stark, PLEASE pick up!_ Voicemail.

A fifth time. Ringing, ringing, ringing-

"Kid, I swear to God, unless Thanos came back from the dead and is shitting in your apartment right now, _stop_ calling me. I told you. I will get your suit done!"

"Where's Morgan, Mr. Stark?" Peter whispered. He was now curled up on the dirty rooftop, back against the ledge so no one could sneak up on him.

"What?" 

"Where's Morgan?" 

"She's home with her babysitter. What do you want?"

Peter's blood ran cold. Skip was never officially his babysitter, but when May and Ben wanted to go out, Skip'd come over so they wouldn't have to worry about Peter being alone. Nothing had happened when he came over, but... It could have. _It could have._

"Do- who's her babysitter? How- how do you know Morgan's okay?" He could hear the desperation seeping into his voice.

"Peter, she's fine. Her babysitter's fine... Is everything all right?"

"How do you know, Mr. Stark?" Peter shrieked. "How do you know she's fine?" He sniffed, unsuccessfully trying to stop himself from crying.

"FRIDAY's watching like a hawk, Kid, and I did the most thorough background check on Kelly ever. Morgan's okay... are you?"

"Y- yeah."

There was a long pause. "Mr. Stark? I'm sorry. I just wanted to-"

"No sorrys, Kid, I was just talking with Pepper. Where are you?"

"At home."

"Everything okay with May?"

"Yeah. I have to go back now. She's been texting me."

"All right, Kid. Want to come to the facility tomorrow? I can send a car to your apartment, so we can work on the suit together."

Peter said that sounded good. They set a time for tomorrow and hung up, then Peter went to face Aunt May.

* * *

Peter didn't expect Tony to be in the limo.

"Hey, Kid." Peter got in the vehicle and Stark knocked on the window to the driver. They started driving upstate.

After ten minutes, Peter apologized for yelling.

"Don't worry about it, Kid," answered Stark.

Peter gave him a small smile. 

They didn't talk more until they got to the workshop. Peter's suit was already fixed, and now Tony was programming some new features. Peter didn't know what features Stark was adding ("It's a surprise!"), but he quickly realized this was less a "helping out with the suit" hang out and more of a "make sure Peter's okay" hang out. 

Peter just watched Tony work on his suit. "Mr. Stark?"

The avenger didn't look up. "Yeah, Kid?"

"I'm really sorry about yesterday. I promise I won't mess up again."

Tony stopped working. "Is that what you're worried about?"

Peter said nothing.

"Kid, what you've told me about what happened to you... I get being worried. I get getting angry and scared. It's okay." He let out a chuckle. "I'm not going to shut you out. I'm not my father."

Peter looked at his hands. Tony'd told him about how he'd felt after what happened in New York. He wasn't the only person in the universe to have trauma. He knew that. 

He wasn't alone.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Peter shook his head. "Not really."

Tony stepped closer to Peter, and it made his Senses go crazy how close the man was to him. But he told himself: _He isn't dangerous. You know this._

Tony awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Do you want a hug?"

Peter shrugged.

"I'm asking about what you want, Kid. Not what you think I want."

Did he want a hug? Mr. Stark making sure it was okay- asking for his _consent_ \- made him want to cry. "Yeah, I want a hug."

Tony embraced him. It was a fierce hug. A safe hug.

"You're strong, Kid. You're really strong."

Peter whispered, "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter will be here v soon, and will be more like an epilogue than a story. thank you for reading!!!


	8. Criterion F - Criterion H

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: therapy, past COCSA, ptsd symptoms

_**Criterion F: Duration** _   
_Persistence of symptoms in Criteria B, C, D, and E for more than one month._

* * *

It started to get better when he worked on it. He had a therapist. He did CBT, talk therapy, and EMDR. None of them were the holy grail or anything, but they helped. It took time, patience, and the ability to know that he was different now. 

Three months after, he woke up screaming; it took hours of May and Ben speaking soft reassurances for him to fall asleep again. One year, and he still had nightmares. Five years, and still, sometimes, when MJ touched him, he'd be right back there with Skip. Six years, and he'd still flinch when Tony clasped his shoulder.

~

**_Criterion G: Functional Significance_ **   
_Significant symptom-related distress or impairment of different areas of life, such as social or occupational._

* * *

It took a long time for Peter to be able to go into an Einstein Bros Bagels with Ned. 2383 days, which was over six and a half _years_ after he was assaulted.

~

**_Criterion H: Exclusion_ **   
_The disturbance is not due to medication, substance use, or other illness._

* * *

Even though it took time, he was able to get that bagel. He was able to kiss Mrs. Jones on their wedding day. He was able to hold his daughter's hand and go out into the day. 

He knew he would always be Skip's victim. But there were many parts to Peter Parker. He would always be: A nephew. A son. The One and Only Spider-Man. "Tiger." A father. A friend. 

And of course, a survivor.

Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand it's done! thank you so much for reading :) 
> 
> if there's one thing i'd like for readers to learn, it's that... chuck roast is a thing and it's expensive when there's bone (jk) 
> 
> feel free to comment with anything (grammar mistakes included LOL) if you'd like!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Ned and Tony are Both Invited to Peter's Birthday Party](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291221) by [hollyharley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyharley/pseuds/hollyharley)




End file.
